


The Boy That No One Wanted

by writerllofllworlds



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Bruce is a good dad, Character Death, Damian Wayne Loves Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne is Robin, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt, Hurt Damian Wayne, Pain, Poetry, Protective Bruce Wayne, Sad Ending, Smol Damian Wayne, Talia is a bitch, Whump, eventually, love damian, please love this lost child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerllofllworlds/pseuds/writerllofllworlds
Summary: The boy who should have stayedby his father’s side.Who could have been held so safe,Faced challenges undaunted.Who could have been so dearly loved,So cherished, precious, wanted.
Relationships: Batfamily - Relationship, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Gen - Relationship, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 153





	The Boy That No One Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm re-reading all the Damian Wayne comics right now (he's my favorite Robin) and I got the feels man.
> 
> Damian so often has no idea how loved and valued he is since Talia raised him in an environment where love was conditional, dependent on what he could do, not who he was or, more importantly, just the fact that she was his mother. He fights and fights and fights for a love he doesn't even think he deserves and never realizes he shouldn't have to earn it in the first place. 
> 
> so i poetry about it.

**The Boy That No One Wanted**

Loved was not the right word

To describe what his mother thought.

She only gave him orders,

Though for her heart he’d fought.

Loved was not the right word

To describe what his mother felt

He’d say that was the farthest thing

From each backhand and slap she’d dealt.

Each moment that she had turned away,

Spat words of rage and spite

When all he really wished was for

Someone to say, “it’s alright.”

Loved was not the right word

to describe what his mother did.

Lied about his honest birth;

the truth from him she’d hid.

Kept him from his father, strong

And made him kill for care.

And even when he did his best,

Her love she would not share.

The boy understood her not

He’d done all that she asked!

But soon he learned that Mother’s love

Was something that did not last.

Wanted was he not by her,

Nor any of her kin,

So off he went to Father’s house

With hope he’d be let in.

Mother left him there, alone

To find a home he should have known before.

Left him on that darkened roof,

And prove himself to Father, he swore.

Taken then was he to castle

His ancestors had stayed in long.

Forced was he to walk a road not Mother’s,

To sing his father’s song.

Scorned was he by brother new

By sister he knew not.

A love that should be unconditional

Was a love he had not bought.

Passed was he from the Father

That should have held him close

To his eldest brother he was given.

Second, third, fourth, fifth place he’d repose.

Wanted not was he by the man

Who should have called him son.

Instead, he was cast aside;

His father’s love he had not won.

Yet news indeed was it to he,

This little boy of only ten

That his eldest brother did not turn

And leave the lost child again.

Instead, he was taken under wing

By a man who smiled despite the pain,

Who did not let his anger win,

Who went against Father’s darkened grain.

Left was he by Mother, Father,

But not by this strange man

“Another one of Mother’s cruel tricks?

Is this Father’s ignorant plan?”

His brother laughed so sad

At the little boy’s honest doubt.

“No way, little one, no how.

That’s not what this is about.”

The boy of only ten

Looked up at his brother and stared

Was it true this man could love him?

Was it true that this man cared?

His brother then, with open arms

Held him in a tight embrace

And told him with the biggest grin

That this was exactly the case.

Finally wanted by someone

Doubtful of earned love was past.

But this surety wasn’t forever.

This certainty did not last.

Returned, indeed, his father did

Humbled yet still so proud.

Taking him from brother kind

His anger he did not shroud.

Thrown again to wolf and lion’s den

He fought many a fearful fight

To save the ones he cared for most,

To bring Father back to the light.

The job that never should have fallen

To a little boy of only ten,

Who took it upon himself

To prove that on him they could depend.

Fought each beast, each clown and crow

Ensured his place amongst the best.

Took risks that no one else would dare

To pass his Mother’s, his Father’s, the world’s test.

He thought that love was something earned

Thought that he could do enough

To prove worthy of compassion.

His hard exterior was just a bluff

To conceal a scared and lonely kid

Who longed to be held, precious, dear.

His father learned of his mistake

And strove to make the truth clear.

He was wanted, precious,

and held so tight

by the family he had found

on that dark and rainy night.

This little boy of only ten

Grew some more and fought so well

Until his Mother, cruel and bitter

Condemned her own son to death and hell

She placed a bounty on his head

And swore to pay the man

That would slay her son,

This was her twisted plan.

His Father, scared and terrified

To lose another of his precious crew

Ordered his little boy to stay at home.

No fighting should he do.

He listened not to Father wise

And ran to his family’s aid.

Risked his life for eldest brother,

And for the choice he dearly paid.

The sword of the heretic

That pierced the young one’s side

Was drenched in the words

Of his mother who lied.

With eyes wide with fear,

He called for his dad.

As blood covered his chest

And with tears his gaze was clad,

The little boy of only ten

Took a last and shaking breath.

With his green eyes pointed up,

The little soldier boy greeted death.

Held by the Father

Who should have called him son.

Not enough time, never enough,

To tell the boy that he’d won.

To tell him the love

he thought he must earn

Was a thought process

He never should have had to learn.

Held by his Father

Who wept over the body of his boy

Whom he should have called

His greatest pride and joy.

Held in strong but shaking arms

by this sorry and broken man

who looked at the little boy

who had never been part of his plan.

Too late to save, Too late to love

Was his son of ten years.

No crying could change the truth

No amount of a Father’s tears.

His stubborn brothers broke.

The devoted family shattered

Since the heroes could not save

The child who really mattered.

Held by his Father

Who cradled the broken form

Closer to his heart,

To make his chilled skin warm.

He bent his dark head

To press his lips to the boy’s crown

Kept them there for hours

Then pulled the boy’s hood down.

The little boy of only ten

Who doubted that anyone could adore

An unlovable child such as he,

that was broken to his very core.

This little boy of only ten

Who never truly knew

How wanted he really was,

what for him his family would do.

Brothers, father, and sister too

Mourned this little one.

With tears and sobs and angry cries

They mourned the little lost son

Who doubted his worth

Until the day he died.

The boy who should have stayed

by his father’s side.

Who could have been held so safe,

Faced challenges undaunted.

Who could have been so dearly loved,

So cherished, precious, _wanted_.


End file.
